


He Works Hard for the Money

by danwriteskink



Category: Twin Peaks
Genre: F/M, Prostitution
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-28
Updated: 2012-10-28
Packaged: 2017-11-17 04:58:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/547865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/danwriteskink/pseuds/danwriteskink
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ben has a very convenient conscience.</p>
            </blockquote>





	He Works Hard for the Money

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Prostitution/Sex Work square in kink_bingo 2012

They meet up most often in the mid-morning slump between breakfast board meetings and the long boozy lunch interval. Catherine is waiting for him, sprawled across the cheap floral coverlet, watching him like a cat as he sheds jacket, tie and shoes. 

"What's it like, buying those women at your little casino?" she says suddenly. "What does it feel like to weigh up their pros and cons." She rolls onto her stomach and cups her chin. "Do you look under the hood, Ben? Kick the tires and test the brakes?" 

Ben rolls his eyes; he thought she'd let that blow over. He affects a goofy smile, the happy-go-lucky entrepreneur caught with his hands on the cookie jar. Maybe she'll spank him again. Now, that was an interesting afternoon. 

"Catherine, darling, with a pearl like you, I can't even think of other women." 

Catherine dips two fingers into the front of her gown, slowly, and with a suggestive smile. Ben's grin widens and he steps towards her with open arms, but stops when Catherine pulls out a $100 casino chip and flings it at his chest. It falls to the grubby carpet, where One-Eyed Jack winks up at him with a leer. 

"How much will that get me, pretty boy?" She cocks her head at him, thoughtful. "That's how it's done, isn't it? Purchase a body and the right to do with it as I wish?" She traces a finger over the buttons on his shirt. Click, click, click. There's a flash of something horribly predatory in Catherine's eyes. Ben flinches, suddenly uncomfortable with this game. Does she know? Does she know about that night with the new girl, the one he would take back if only he could?

"Hey, eyes front! I'm the customer here!" Catherine's voice is sharp, like a slap to the face. "And as I understand, it's your job to keep the customer satisfied. Now, let me see what I'm buying. Or maybe I'll look elsewhere." 

Is this what it's like on the other side? Ben will never understand why Laura was there at Jack's, not really. It begs questions he doesn't want to deal with – what made her so desperate, what the hell went on at the Palmer house at night, how the hell did Ben not recognise her? He's trying so hard to find reasons, looking inward instead of outward, that when Catherine grabs his tie and pulls him close, it's a genuine shock. 

She strokes his cheek, fascinated by his expression. "Poor, lost little boy." Her smile becomes a leer, and she squeezes his ass hard. "All mine tonight, I think."

Ben isn't really into this, but that seems to be the point tonight. He clambers onto the squeaky mattress, nestles himself between Catherine's legs and gets to work with hands and tongue. Later he'll laugh about it with her, and later after that, he'll probably take Jerry for a ride in the boat. Nothing will change. Doing this won't bring Laura back, nor will he have a thought to spare for the women who keep coming to Jack's begging for work, but right now, Ben can congratulate himself on exorcising his demons, and getting paid to do it.


End file.
